


Mechanics

by neveralarch



Category: Doctor Who: Scream of the Shalka
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-25
Updated: 2010-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-14 05:14:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/145752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neveralarch/pseuds/neveralarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Master's not feeling himself...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mechanics

"Master? Alison said she saw you come in-" Oh. The Doctor stopped, just past the doorway to his bedroom. That time again.

The Master was curled on the bed they shared, face hidden. The pose was unlike him, especially since he could no longer really sleep and didn't have to show emotion. It made it obvious that he wasn't... feeling himself. The Doctor stepped closer, biting his lip, as the Master began to speak, the accusation in his voice only slightly muffled by his sleeves.

"I figured it out. I'm dead- no, I'm not even here. This is just some _thing_ you made so that you didn't feel alone."

"Master, I don't know what you're talking about," said the Doctor, his hearts sinking. He kept speaking, trying to salvage the situation, but he was already planning for failure. "I rescued you from the Eye of Harmony, remember? We built this housing together, but your mind is completely intact."

The Master curled impossibly tighter, his android nature allowing him to ignore organic limitations.

"Those memories are of a lower quality than earlier or later ones. The earlier ones have a matrix stamping on them, by the way. They're easy to recognize when you've spent as much time in the matrix as I- the Master did."

The Doctor cursed under his breath, walking to the bed and sitting so he could stroke the man's back, trying to calm him.

"Don't- Master, don't talk like that."

The other shook off the Doctor's hand, sitting up in a fluid, but violent motion.

"You lost the Master, so you built yourself a robot. And you made me think I was him, just to make the illusion perfect. How sick is that, Doctor? Well, you made me too smart. To proud, perhaps, to admit that your toy might discover your deception? Well, now. I- I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do, but first thing is to tell your lovely Miss Cheney exactly what kind of man she's dealing- what are you doing?"

The Doctor's hand snaked around to the back of the android's neck, pressing the emergency button while he psychically engaged the reset conditions. The mechanical body fell to the bed unceremoniously, its mouth caught in the act of speech.

The Doctor frowned as he selectively erased the memories pertaining to the discovery which had set off this episode. It would only take a few tweaks to the android's thought patterns to keep it from ever discovering its nature, but anything could be got around unless he reduced its intelligence. And if he did that, well, it wouldn't be the Master anymore.

It wasn't actually the Master anyway, said a cynical little voice, but he ignored it. A person was the sum total of their experiences. Ergo, a thing with those experiences was that person. The android had the experiences of the Master, therefore he was the Master.

Done. He'd had to chop out significant portions of the Master's memory from the last month of linear time, which was unfortunate, but all memory of the discovery was gone. He put up a few more firewalls around thoughts pertaining to the suspect memories and rebooted the Master's mind.

"Doctor? What happened?" The Master blinked bewildered eyes before narrowing them suspiciously.

"Everything's fine," said the Doctor, patting the Master's arm and smiling. "A fault occurred with your rest mechanism- I fixed it, but I'm afraid several of your memory files were rendered invalid during your normal organizing period. I don't think it was anything important, but I didn't want to pry in your brain." He looked anxiously at the Master, hoping that explanation would satisfy. Picking at loose threads is what got them here every time.

The Master shook his head, slowly, as if trying not to dislodge anything.

"Everything seems in order, Doctor. Thank you for your assistance." He shuddered, delicately. "I miss having a Time Lord body- oh, this is as perfect as we could make it, but a body of gears and wire can never compete with Gallifreyan flesh and blood. I never lost random memories in the night before." The words came lightly, but they made the Doctor wince nonetheless. The Master frowned. "I apologize. I am most grateful for my continued survival. Perhaps you would allow me to show you exactly how much, now that I am...awake?"

The Doctor leaned in to kiss the Master and push his tongue into that willing mouth. If he concentrated hard enough on the sensation, the almost exactly reproduced feeling of the Master against him, he could forget that this was all an illusion, that it was constantly falling apart, that every time he erased the memories the android rediscovered itself faster.

When he ran his hands across fabricated skin, he felt a sudden urge to just give up, stop resetting everything and let come what may.

"Doctor, please," said the Master, eyes wide, teeth grit, and the Doctor forgot his misgivings.

They were happy as they were, after all.


End file.
